


Sweet Talk

by Destina



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-14
Updated: 2007-02-14
Packaged: 2018-04-06 00:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4200726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/pseuds/Destina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen found the first candy heart stuck to the handle of his trailer door with a wad of Scotch tape. U R CUTE, it announced, in its quiet purple way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Talk

**Author's Note:**

> If this story were a color, it would be pink with a red border. Written in February 2007 and posted to AO3 in June 2015. Thanks to Killa and Barkley.

Jensen found the first candy heart stuck to the handle of his trailer door with a wad of Scotch tape. U R CUTE, it announced, in its quiet purple way. He plucked it off the tape and stood looking at it, thinking about which of the crew on set might be a huge enough dork to leave him candy like they were in the fifth grade. 

It took him a few minutes, but he settled on that girl who was the new makeup assistant, the one who was always like _Oh, Jensen, let me touch up your face_ and _Oh, Jensen, don't you just love the Doors?_

Yep. It had to be her. Fortunately, she was hot, so he would thank her for it. Later. He grinned and popped the candy in his mouth, and then licked the chalky residue from his fingers. 

As it turned out, it wasn't her, although he didn't know that until he had her pinned against the counter in the makeup trailer, his lips next to her ear and her skirt rucked up around her hips. "I loved the way you let me know you wanted to hook up," he whispered, and she made a little sound like, huh? Right then, the fun went out of it, and he backed up; she was pink-cheeked and happy, but he kissed the corner of her mouth and let it go right there, because he had it wrong, and he wasn't that kind of guy, all rumors to the contrary notwithstanding. 

The second heart freaked him out a little. It was stuck right smack in the middle of the right lens of his glasses, which were safely tucked in the pocket of his jacket. Or had been, anyway. Now there was a yellow heart stuck there with what looked like -- _please tell me this person did not lick my glasses_ \-- spit. 

He wrinkled his nose and said, "E Z 2 LOVE, my ass." 

He knew the candy would taste like sugar-flavored dust, but he ate it anyway, belatedly realizing that he was eating someone else's spit. And he didn't even know them. Yet. 

"It's a prank," he told Jared later, when they were hanging out in Jared's trailer flinging wads of paper at each other. Old scripts came in handy for that, and for selling in charity auctions. "Has to be."

"Yeah, maybe," Jared said, totally fixated on opening a soda can with his teeth. "Maybe somebody likes you, though."

"Maybe," Jensen said, but he was thinking about that guy Pete from the crew, and how pissed off he'd been when Jared and Jensen had changed all the locks on his equipment lockers and hadn't made keys. "Or maybe somebody's just an evil asshole."

"Okay," Jared said. He set the soda can down in triumph, the torn-off tab between his teeth. "But maybe somebody just likes you, Jensen. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"What?" Jensen frowns. "It's not." 

Jared pursed his lips at Jensen and said, "Whatever, man." It was the soft way he said it, though, that made Jensen's face go hot, and he looked away, because sometimes Jared thought he got a whole hell of a lot more about Jensen than he really did. His current theory was that Jensen was holding out on getting back into a steady relationship because he was scared of being hurt, and Jensen wouldn't talk about that with anybody, much less Jared, whose entire personal life screamed of domesticity. 

Jared really didn't get it, and Jensen had no plans to explain it to him anytime soon. 

The third heart popped up inside Jensen's trailer, stuck to his makeup mirror with toothpaste. Jensen didn't even notice it until he hopped out of the shower after a particularly bloody go-round with fake zombies with knives, and then he startled so bad he hit his head on the side of the shower. The steam had softened it up a bit, but it retained its perky Day-Glo orange, and announced BE MINE in a sultry pink shout. 

This time, Jensen got Kripke and Jared and lot security, and anyone else who happened to be around. "It's a stalker," he informed them, pointing one outstretched finger at the heart, which was dwarfed by the army around it. "It has to be. A stalker who broke into my trailer."

"Relax, Jensen," Eric said, squinting at it. "We'll take precautions, but I doubt it's really a stalker. It's probably a prank. You know Pete's still pissed at you for-"

"I thought of that already!" Jensen put one hand on his hip; the other was already there holding up his towel, on account of how he hadn't thought this thing through before flinging open the door and bringing the cavalry running. 

"It'll be okay," Eric said. He smiled, and Jensen could tell the fucker was on the verge of busting out with a belly laugh. "Let me get these people out of here."

The crowd dissipated, and suddenly only Jared was left, leaning against the closed door with his arms folded across his chest. 

Jensen looped the towel tighter and stood up straight. "Go ahead," he said, wounded dignity bleeding through every heroic word. "Say it. You think I'm a girl."

"Nah, man." Jared moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, though. It's cool." 

"Well, someone was in here," Jensen said defensively.

Jared ran a hand up through Jensen's wet hair, gentle. Comforting. "You want me to hang around a little while?"

It was amazing how fast the tension slipped right out of Jensen's body at the idea of it, though he looked away from Jared so it wouldn't be so obvious. "Hell, yeah," he said, turning back toward the shower. Which he climbed into and set to 'cold', because that thing that had just happened with his body, and how his cock jumped straight to attention like it was straining to climb up into Jared's hand where it rested in Jensen's hair...that was delayed shock, or something. 

Or something. 

It took a few days, but the fourth heart turned up in Jensen's boot when he went to put it on after a scene in a motel bed. It rattled around in the toe until he shook it out into his hand, where it said BYE BYE in its usual pink way. 

"Either someone's going to strangle me in my sleep, or they're giving up," he said, tossing it to Jared. 

"I wonder how these taste in beer?" Jared said, and popped it into his mouth. 

"You are not normal," Jensen said, staring at him, but Jared was grinning from ear to ear. 

"I told you there wasn't nothin' to worry about, man. They probably gave up on you playing the game. Bye-bye, right? Now come on, let's go get some dinner." 

Over Chinese food in Jensen's suite, Jensen confessed all his fake fantasies about being tied up by a heart-leaving porn stripper, and Jared laughed until he cried, and things seemed about a million times better. Maybe BYE BYE really was an apology, or something. Stupid not-porny stalker. 

He went into makeup the next morning bleary-eyed and a little bit hungover - Jared had some idea that eating a ton of chocolate would keep them from getting drunk on beer, and wow, was he wrong, plus Jensen's belly felt pointed like a conehead - but feeling a hundred times better about the whole stalker thing. 

Right then, he noticed the big-ass plastic box of candy hearts on the floor in the makeup trailer beside Jeannie's Chair of Hair. 

Granted, it could be a coincidence. It just so happened that Jared stored almost all his candy over there in the corner, and the pile kept growing ever since Jared confessed to the world that he was a sugar junkie. Tons of candy - sparkly pink bows, red ribbons, hearts and flowers and satin boxes - courtesy of their fans. Who apparently would still love Jared even if he was fat and pimply due to excess consumption of sugar. 

Candy hearts were everywhere this time of year, right? 

He waited until Jeannie had finished fluffing his wayward hair, and then he flipped the lid off the box and looked down into the massive pile of candy. _U R CUTE, E Z 2 LOVE_...maybe it had all been a giant joke at his expense. 

He waited for the hearts to divulge their secrets, but JARED LIKES YOU, YOU DORK wouldn't fit on one heart, and besides, he was wise to their little lies by now. 

One-handed, he stuffed a fistful of hearts into his pocket and popped the lid back on, just as Jared threw open the door. "You ready, man?" he asked, flashing a blinding grin. 

"Yeah," Jensen said, head tilted to one side as he watched Jared leap up into the trailer and squeeze Jeannie until she giggled. "Yeah, I think I am."

For the rest of the day, things went like they always went. Jared and Jensen goofed around between takes; they showed each other lewd text messages from friends and snickered at their own immaturity; they ate trays full of craft service food in Jared's trailer at lunch and talked about possible hiatus projects.

"I was thinkin' about doing this movie in Ireland," Jared said around a mouthful of zucchini. 

"Ireland?" Jensen glanced up at him, to be rewarded with an outstretched tongue coated with zucchini. "Like, with leprechauns and snakes?"

"More like with pubs and shamrocks," Jared said, stealing Jensen's Coke and washing down a huge bite of chicken. "I was just thinking, you know. It'd be a nice break. The shoot's only two months, but it's a good part." 

"Whatever makes you happy," Jensen said, feeling oddly as though he was already missing Jared. Which was just weird, and not normal. He looked over to see Jared picking at the remains of his lunch. "What about Sandy, though? Didn't you have plans to travel and stuff?"

"Yeah, you know." Jared flipped the lid closed on his tray and switched on the TV. And that was that. Jensen watched Jared for a minute, waiting for the rest of it, but apparently saying nothing at all was saying too much. 

So Jensen finished his soggy fajitas, and then he made a grab for the remote. Jared pinned him to the couch and wrestled the TV remote away from him, and Jensen came up laughing and happy, shirt stretched into an impossible shape, one leg still slung over Jared's lap. 

"Ireland, huh?" Jensen asked, when Jared's warm hand came down to rest on his knee. 

Jared swallowed, and his thumb moved across Jensen's leg, up, down, making a warm path against the frayed denim of his jeans. 

They hit a bar that night, and through the steady stream of semi-starstruck girls, Jensen watched Jared, watched the way he smiled and charmed and flirted his way through it all. He noticed the way Jared hung back, the way he didn't engage, or dance; the way he put his hand on the small of Jensen's back when he slid out of the booth, and how many teeth showed in his grin when Jensen knocked his hand away. 

He stood too close to Jared when he was throwing, and lingered too long under Jared's arm when he hit the bullseye, and felt Jared's phone vibrate in his pocket. Jared didn't answer it; he never answered it, never pulled it out, never took his attention away from Jensen. It wasn't hard to figure out that Jared and Sandy wouldn't be traveling anywhere together. 

Later that night, Jensen curled up in bed and looked out the window at the night sky, and wondered what Ireland was actually like, and if Jared always smelled so good or if Jensen was just so far gone now that he couldn't help but notice it, couldn't help but obsess about it, and right then, he made up his mind. 

He glued the carefully chosen heart to Jared's iPod, right at the bottom corner, and pretended to be oblivious when Jared stood on the muddy planks outside his trailer and gave Jensen a pale, sweaty look, the kind of look a guilty man has on the way to the gallows. SWEET TALK, said the heart, because it was nothing if not obvious in its confrontation. 

There was no answer to his demand-o-gram. Not right away, anyway, and it was a long enough pause that Jensen was starting to think he had it all wrong. But the answer came in the form of an orange heart tacked on the end of a prop knife with syrupy blood: PUPPY LOVE, it proclaimed. 

Jensen sat down hard on the ugly couch - all haunted houses had ugly couches in the Supernatural realm, apparently; it was an indicator of hauntedness - and scraped at the pink words with his fingernail. Puppy love could mean a lot of things, and some of them made Jensen's chest ache, because he wasn't about to fuck things up over a fling. Maybe it really was just a crush, or...something. 

Maybe he shouldn't be thinking about Ireland. 

Maybe Jared was going to go back to answering his phone. 

Not that he asked Jared about it, of course. Because being straightforward just wasn't the manly way. They ate lunch together in Jared's trailer again in surreal silence, pretending that they weren't having a candy-related conversation on the side. Jensen was distracted by the way Jared was touching his fork, fingers tapping light against it and then curling away to hover over it. If a fork could enjoy being stroked by Jared, this one would have been in orgasmic bliss...

...and really, Jensen could not control his imagination; who could, when faced with all that fork-stroking? Which was when his imagination presented him with the pretty picture of him under Jared's hand, the poor neglected fork knocked to one side. 

Jared made a tiny noise then, sort of a cross between a growl and a cough, and Jensen realized that he was staring at Jared's mouth. 

"I, uh," he said, and Jared answered, 

"Right, sure," and then Jensen was up from the table and out the door, before he did something really, really stupid. 

It took him a few hours to decide what to say, and even then he wasn't sure he should go there, but in the end it was what was on his mind, so he went with it. BE TRUE, the heart whispered sideways from its perch on the front of Jared's script. 

Jared looked at it, and looked at Jensen - who was busy, god he was _so incredibly busy_ checking his email - and then he went back into his trailer and closed the door quietly behind him. Jensen looked at the wall between them and imagined Jared was dialing his cell right that second, squaring everything away. 

He waited around for an hour or so, thinking about what he'd really meant by it, and what kind of truth he wanted, and how he should be careful what he asked for. When the door didn't open, he packed it in and went back to the hotel, and didn't wait for the phone to ring. 

It was a long night, because he didn't sleep, but when he went to the door to get the morning paper, it was clear he wasn't the only one. YOU AND ME, said the determined yellow heart taped to his room number, right above the place where Jared could have knocked, if he'd wanted to. No telling how long he'd been standing out there in the middle of the night -- _when we could have been doing other things_ , the nasty voice inside Jensen's head added. But there would be time for that. 

The little smile that hijacked Jensen's face was totally out of his control. 

He dumped out his stash of hearts on the coffee table and picked through them, but the one he needed was nowhere to be found. "Unbelievable," he muttered, as he rifled through the kitchen drawers. 

Five minutes later, a neat pile of shavings decorated the carpet, and the pristine white of an unmarked heart beckoned to the Sharpie in his hand. 

Since Jared wasn't lurking in the lobby, Jensen dressed warm and took the ten-minute drive to his hotel. He called up, and when Jared answered the phone, Jensen shivered at the nervous waver in his voice. 

"You busy, man?" he asked, like they were going to go work out or shoot hoops. 

"Get up here, Jensen," Jared said, low, and Jensen grinned. 

When Jared opened the door, the grin preceeded the cackling laugh by about two seconds, because the heart was fixed in the middle of Jensen's forehead. "I was running out of places to put them," Jensen said, grinning hard. 

Jared reached out a hand and pulled, and then Jensen was up against him, body to body, Jared's arms looped around him and the door banging shut behind them. 

KISS ME, the little white heart demanded. 

And so Jared did. 

"You," Jensen started, but the word never managed to find a sentence to hang onto, because Jared's warm, soft mouth was moving over Jensen's, slow and hungry, and his hands were under Jensen's shirt, fingers splayed across the bare skin of his back. 

"You were saying something?" Jared whispered against his lips. He plucked the piece of candy off Jensen's face, and then they were smiling into each other's mouths, into a sweet kiss that made Jensen's heart do crazy beat-skipping things. He slid Jensen's shirt up and ran his fingers slowly over Jensen's back, then across his stomach, dipping his thumbs down below the waistband of Jensen's jeans. "Got any more messages for me hidden on you?"

"Guess you'll have to check," Jensen said, into another of those slow, soft kisses. 

It took some time, but Jensen knew Jared always did like a challenge; he ran his hands over every inch of Jensen's body, looking for the things Jensen wanted to tell him. Jensen tried to make it clear in the way his hands pressed Jared against him, in the smiles he left against Jared's skin. So many things to say. When Jared slid into him, deep enough to make Jensen's breath catch in his throat, he closed his eyes and listened to the soft litany Jared whispered against his ear, and knew Jared understood. 

Later, when Jared's head was resting on Jensen's bare stomach, and Jensen's fingers were twined in his hair, he said, "Ireland? Really?" 

Jared raised his head and looked at Jensen, and then kissed his belly, just a nip of teeth to mark his place. "Ireland," he said. Another kiss. "Or Brazil." One more kiss, this time over Jensen's ticklish ribs. "Or the moon. Who cares where?" He tugged Jensen's lips apart with his own, and bent his head when he said, "'Cause we're goin' together, right?"

And then Jared swung up and over him, and fit them together just so, breathed into him and touched him everywhere, and sweet-talked Jensen into anything, everything, without saying another word.


End file.
